


Puzzle

by Choi_Aya05



Series: Day6 Supernatural AU [5]
Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Demon Kim Wonpil, Fluff without Plot, M/M, Minor Parkian, Wolf Yoon Dowoon, the other members are just mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:54:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26406049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Choi_Aya05/pseuds/Choi_Aya05
Summary: The demon had first encountered the witch when he was frolicking in the market and the other was on his way to the palace.The demon had seen the brightness of his soul, as well as the mark of death on him. But he'd also seen that the witch still had a lot in store for him.Wonpil had never been so drawn to someone before.
Relationships: Kim Wonpil/Yoon Dowoon
Series: Day6 Supernatural AU [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862596
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38
Collections: Day6 OTPs





	Puzzle

**Author's Note:**

> Just a mild dose of DoPil (before the future angst lol).

Though he had no recollections from when he was alive, he could still recall the day he was made.

He had opened his eyes to a soft murmur.

_"Wonpil,"_ the voice had said, deceptively loving. _"Wonpil."_

He had never experienced such gentleness afterwards, only the coldness and the burning of their realm. But he would never forget it. He thought about it a lot.

He longed for someone to call him that way again.

The older demons scoffed at him, the ones his age looked at him like he was a difficult puzzle. None of them yearned for the voice the way he did. None understood. Because out of all of them, Wonpil was the only one touched; the only one who cared.

He spent most of his time with the mortals, fascinated. Rather than stirring trouble, he observed. He never interfered with their fate, preferring to remain a spectator. He watched them be born, grow, laugh, struggle, then eventually perish.

It was fascinating from a nihilistic viewpoint: how nothing truly mattered yet humans gave everything significance, attempting to make sense of the world with their limited time. The way they dared live their lives despite the awareness of its expiration.

It was all useless.

He craved for it anyway.

The demon had first encountered the witch when he was frolicking in the market and the other was on his way to the palace.

The demon had seen the brightness of his soul, as well as the mark of death on him. But he'd also seen that the witch still had a lot in store for him.

Wonpil had never been so drawn to someone before.

Something about the witch beckoned him, like a beacon in darkness, as if he had the answer to all of Wonpil's questions.

As he had expected, the witch died.

A fox deity carried him, snarling protectively over the corpse. Wonpil didn't feel bad; he was jaded to this kind of occurrence. Still, the feeling when he first saw the witch intensified with the fox's presence.

He knew what he wanted then.

"Let me live with you."

The fox was frowning so hard Wonpil worried the wrinkles would be permanently etched on his forehead. "But why?"

Why, indeed.

"I could see a great adventure ahead of you," was what he settled with. Wonpil himself didn't know what he meant, but it felt like the right answer.

Centuries later, staring up at Dowoon straddling his thighs, the wolf pinning his wrists on the couch's backrest with a triumphant smirk, everything clicked into place.

(It always did, whenever he looked at Dowoon; like slotting the last puzzle piece in place.)

This was the great adventure the witch and the fox were meant to lead him to.

"Yoon Dowoon," he called out. Dowoon's black ears twitched, head cocking to the side. The equally black tail that had been swishing with fervor slowly calmed down. Wonpil had to smile at the sight. "I love you."

Dowoon sputtered, flustered despite the so many times Wonpil had told him so through the years they spent together. "W-wha—that's—huh? Suddenly?"

The grip on him loosened and Wonpil took advantage. He twisted his hands to dislodge Dowoon, who lost his balance and tipped forward, bumping heads with him.

"Wonpil," Dowoon whined, rubbing the sore area soothingly. Wonpil merely cradled his nape and brought him near, burying the younger's face on the curve of his neck. Dowoon was quick to nuzzle his flushed cheek on the warm skin of his shoulder in turn.

Wonpil held him in his embrace, content. He closed his eyes and savored the way Dowoon shyly but sweetly said, "I love you too."

Dowoon would utter his name casually, timidly, exasperatedly. He would gasp it out in surprise or groan it out in annoyance. However he did it, he colored it in a way that Wonpil couldn't get enough of; a way that was solely his and Wonpil would never tire listening to.

It was so much better than the voice that had summoned him to life, the one he desired to hear once more for years that had followed.

Now, Dowoon's voice was the only one he wished to hear for eternities to come.

(And perhaps Jae's when he whined, Younghyun's when he laughed, and Sungjin's when he sang.

But mostly Dowoon.)

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly don't know where this came from, but it's been sitting finished in my drafts for weeks so here you go I guess.


End file.
